natural slag

When Han Chen was young, he followed Gong Zhao for five years, and his entire youth revolved around Gong Zhao. Now, the status of the two of them has been completely reversed, and it has become that Gong Zhao is by his side—the ghost lingers.

After getting entangled, Han Chen had already acquiesced in Gong Zhao's existence.

How can one restrain oneself in such a thing as emotion?

Gong Zhao was quite satisfied with the current situation. The only thing he was dissatisfied with was Fan Jin, who always appeared by Han Chen's side.

"Has he not given up yet?" Gong Zhao lazily said to Han Chen as he watched Fan Jin's car leave from the window again.

"You're thinking too much." Han Chen didn't explain too much.

"Forget it, don't give up if you don't give up, anyway, you like me." Gong Zhao comforted himself, and then blocked Han Chen's waist from behind shamelessly.

His lips pressed against the skin of Han Chen's neck, and he whispered seductively, "We haven't done it for a long time, do you want tonight?"

Before Han Chen could speak, Gong Zhao added, "I think so."

The next moment, Han Chen threw his elbow back, and Chao Gongzhao hit his heart hard.

Gong Zhao cried out in pain, clutching his heart: "I'm hurt."

"Injury at work, you have to pay for it."

"But I'm expensive, you can't afford it, and I don't want your money, so let's repay the debt with my own body."

Han Chen glanced at him, thinking he was farting.

Of course, Gong Zhao achieved his goal at night with his astonishing thick skin.

On the bed, Gong Zhao didn't forget to put eye drops on Fan Jin: "How can that kid compare to me? How about I have his job? Can I make you so comfortable?"

Han Chen sneered: "Yeah, you are recognized in the industry as a good job."

Gong Zhao smiled awkwardly, he must have short-circuited his brain just after finishing the work, which pot should not be opened and which pot should be lifted.

"Those are things of the past."

Han Chen wanted to discuss this topic with him: "Even if he is inferior in everything, at least he is better than you in one respect, and he is cleaner than you."

Gong Zhao pretended to be hurt: "You, you dislike me?"

Gong Zhao argues: "It's a new era now, why do you still retain traditional thinking in your bones? As men in the new era, we shouldn't care about those performances. Let the past pass by. People always have to look forward."

"Besides, even if my body is dirty, my heart is still clean."

Han Chen couldn't take it anymore, and covered his mouth with his hand: "You have to show some face."

Gong Zhao stuck out his tongue and wet Han Chen's palm ambiguously, staring at him straight in the eyes: "If you want me to shut up, you can't just use your hands."